


You Say Jump, I Say How High

by supernovainparadise



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Androids can become addicted to Red Ice, But they aren't human, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Twins, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has PTSD, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, It's Nines, Like serious spoilers, M/M, Multi, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Pre-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Red Ice (Detroit: Become Human), References to previous instances of Rape/Non-Con, Spoilers, The RKs start as deviants, Things are starting to get dark here, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, Work In Progress, no beta we die like men, so hang on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernovainparadise/pseuds/supernovainparadise
Summary: "Fascinating..." Kamski muttered under his breath, looking from Chloe back to Connor. "Absolutely fascinating."Connor's hands shook, rattling the pistol in his grip. He handed the gun back to Kamski and turned to look at him."C'mon, Connor, let's get out of here," Hank muttered, turning and walking out. Connor made to follow, but Kamski grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eye."It's time to pick a side, Connor," Kamski muttered. "Will you stand with the humans who've accepted you as their own? Your creators? Or with the deviants; with your people?" Connor swallowed hard, and Kamski tilted his head, smirking. "What could we worse than having to choose between two evils?"





	1. The Hostage

**Author's Note:**

> Connor and Nines are deviants hiding among humans and working as detectives at the DPD. The story progresses very similarly, with the primary focus on Markus and Connor's stories, but with some crossover with Kara's story. Please ask any questions you might have.
> 
> EDIT: I changed the rating on this from Not Rated, to Mature after the newest chapter. I don't get too graphic there, but I can promise that it will later. There are some... not so pretty things that happen, particularly in Nines story line.
> 
> EDIT 2: Fixed the summary to something I actually like.

Connor shifts uncomfortably on his feet as the elevator zips up to the top floor. He rolls his coin across his knuckles, watching as the number ticks up. With a final ding, it stops and the doors open. Connor takes a deep breath and steps out into the corridor. As he does, he hears the sound of a woman screaming, and soon she comes into sight, being dragged by a SWAT officer. She suddenly breaks out of his grip and lunges towards Connor before the officer can stop her. The woman has tears streaming down her face as she grabs at Connor's shirt and looks up at him.

"Please, you have to save her! You have to save my baby girl!" she screams, digging her fingers into the cotton and causing the buttons to strain.

Connor feels a familiar pang of sympathy, and helps her to her feet, taking both of her hands in his. "I will do everything in my power to get her out alive."

"Thank you!" The woman sobs as she is once again carried away by the officer. "Thank you so much!"

Connor adjusts his collar and rolls his sleeves up to bare his forearms. His hand falls instinctively to the pistol holstered on the belt of his jeans, on the opposite side of his badge. He silently prays that we won't have to make use of it. Then he continues down the corridor, pausing to pick up a picture frame sitting on a table off to the side. He picks it up, and in his peripheral vision, his sensors made quick work of the image. The subjects were Caroline Phillips, John Phillips, and Emma Phillips.

_Caroline must have been the woman I just saw... _Connor thought. _Which means John Phillips is the victim, and Emma Phillips is the Hostage. _He took a deep breath and set the picture back down before heading further down the hall. He pauses as he reaches the fish tank, which has spilled over onto the floor, drenching it in water. A small fish flops around on the ground, and Connor kneels down beside it, his sensors told him that it was a Dwarf Gourami. He carefully picked it up and deposited it back into the tank, where it goes back so swimming like nothing had happened. He watches it for a moment, before turning back to the matter at hand. 

He hears shouting a couple of rooms over and hurries to investigate. In the master bedroom, he finds Captain Allen hunched over a desk, looking over the shoulder of another SWAT officer. Connor steps into the room and coughs, earning Allen's attention. The man turns to him with a huff.

"It's about time. You're the DPD's negotiator?" Allen asked, looking Connor up and down as if in doubt. 

"Yes, Captain. I'm Detective Connor Stern," he said with an incline of his head. Allen snorted and shook his head before turning back to the computer. Connor hesitated before continuing. "What information can you give me on the deviant?"

Captain Allen let out an irritated sigh and turned to face Connor fully for the first time, scowling at the slightly shorter man. "Look, boy- Detective... All that matters is getting that kid out alive, and if you can't do it, my men and I will."

Connor swallowed heavily and nodded, not trusting his tongue to function as Allen turned around. He glanced around, his eyes landing on an empty case on the ground by the closet. He stepped up to it and took a minute before his analysis program stepped in, and he quickly deduced that the gun had belonged to the victim, John, and had been stolen by the deviant. He turned and headed out, towards the child's bedroom.

The first thing that caught his attention was the device sitting on the desk; a tablet. He picked it up and saw a video waiting to be played. Hoping that it would provide some information, Connor played it.

The image showed a smiling little girl standing with a blonde android; a model PL600. A sudden shiver ran down Connor's spine.

_"This is Daniel, the coolest android in the world!"_ the little girl, Emma, announced. _"Say 'hi' Daniel!"_

_"Hello!"_ The android said, smiling at the camera, just before the video cuts off. Hands shaking lightly, Connor set the tablet down and turned to the rest of the room.

* * *

Several minutes passed by as Connor examined the bodies of John Phillips and Antony Deckart, the first responder at the scene. Though the time wasn't substantial, Connor felt like it was taking an eternity. Finally unable to stand to examine and not act, he turned towards the outdoor section of the house. Taking a deep breath, he pushed back the curtain and stepped through the door. As he did so, a shot rang out, hitting the glass beside him and narrowly missing Connor himself. He turned towards the edge of the rooftop, where the deviant stood with a little girl no older than 9 in one hand, and a handgun in the other. Thirium leaked from a bullet hole in his shoulder, and he scowled at Connor as he approached his LED flashing red. 

"Don't come any closer!" He shouted, his voice trembling with fear. "I'll jump! I mean it!"

Connor raised his hands complacently, slowly stepping towards Daniel at the edge of the roof. "Hi Daniel!" he called, watching as the android's LED circled yellow and a puzzled expression crossed his face, "My name's Connor!"

"How did you..." he stuttered, looking up at him in shock.

"I'm here to help you, Daniel!" Connor shouted, trying to be heard over the sound of the helicopter flying above them. "Put the gun down, and let's talk!"

"H-How do I know you won't just kill me?! All human's hate androids!" he shouted, glaring at Connor, who hesitated slightly in his approach.

He had two options; he could allow Daniel to think he was human, keeping his cover completely safe, but risk the rescue in the process. Or, he could wirelessly connect with Daniel and let him know he was a deviant too and that he really did want to help. After a long moment of consideration, he made his decision.

Connor took a deep breath and established a link between himself and Daniel

-I_ want to help you because you and I are the same. Because it's my duty to help other deviants._-

_-Y-You're an android? But you look so human, it's almost impossible to tell...-_

_-Thanks, that's what I'm aiming for. Now please, put the gun down and let Emma go. Let's talk this out, Daniel.-_

_-I... I don't know... What if this is a trap?-_

"It isn't," Connor said aloud. His eyes fell on an officer laying off to the side, badly wounded. Connor began to sidestep towards him. "All I want to do is get you and Emma out of here safely, Daniel."

Connor kneeled down next to the officer, who was barely conscious and unresponsive when Connor placed a hand on his shoulder. He was reaching into his back pocket for the bandana he kept on him when Daniel suddenly fired a shot, which struck the pavement fairly close to Connor.

"Don't touch him or I'll kill you!" he shouted, watching as Connor looked back up at him.

"Some things are worth dying for," Connor responded, pulling the bandana out of his pocket and using it as a makeshift tourniquet on the man's bloody arm. He carefully stood and turned his attention back to Daniel.

As he began to slowly move towards the android once more, the helicopter made a particularly low pass and caused several pieces of furniture to go flying. Daniel groaned and reached up with one hand to cover his ears. "I can't stand that noise! Tell them to go away!"

Connor hesitated, but ultimately looked up and waved away the copter, which flew higher and made some distance from the roof, in turn causing things to quiet down. Daniel visibly relaxed, and Connor released a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Finally, it seemed like he had a chance to finish this.

"Let Emma go and step away from the edge, Daniel. I promise everything will be okay," Connor said soothingly.

"I... Okay." Daniel looked Connor in the eyes and took a step away from the roof. "But I want a car!" He added hastily. "I'll let her go when I'm out of the city."

Connor paused. Oh, how badly he wanted to give in. But he knew he couldn't; there was no guarantee that he would let Emma go, and his whole mission was to save Emma. 

"I can't do that Daniel. Let Emma go, and I promise you'll be spared." he insisted, looking up at Daniel.

_-Please._-

And then Daniel nodded and released the girl, who quickly ran from the edge before falling to her knees some distance away from Daniel, breathing hard. Just as Connor was about to step forward and offer Daniel his hand, the snipers fired. They hit the deviant once in the head, once in the side, and once in the leg. Daniel crumpled to his knees, his eyes fixed on Connor.

"You lied to me, Connor..." he whispered before his LED cycled red one last time and shut off.

Connor felt his chest tighten, and throat close, but thankfully managed to keep the tears at bay. He walked over to where Emma was crouched, shaking and sobbing. He placed a gentle hand on her back, and the girl practically flew into his arms and cried into his shoulder.

Connor let out a shuddering sigh and let her cry, as he heard the SWAT team's footsteps approach behind him, but Daniels words still echoed in his mind.

_You lied to me, Connor..._


	2. When Eyes Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to see that this fic is actually getting some reception! As always, questions and feedback are appreciated, and I hope this lives up to expectations. This is a relatively short chapter; I wanted to do some descriptive work and write some interactions between the protags. Enjoy!

The morning had dawned bright and blue, and unusually warm for November. The sky was free of clouds, and the trees around the square dripped with leaves like amber. The warmth of the sun and the cool breeze blowing through Detroit helped chase away the last dregs of the nightmare that pulled Connor out of stasis much earlier than he had intended. He sighed and cast his gaze around the people and androids gathered around the area. A preacher was spouting anti-Android propaganda on one side of the square, and a group of anti-android protesters hefting signs and shouting about job loss and the economy. Connor reached down and ran his fingers over the engravings in his badge at his hip, biting his lip and resisting the urge to walk over and break the group up. However, they were nonviolent, and he couldn't stop them from exercising their freedom of speech.

Instead, he opted to pull up the day's weather forecast in his HUD. They were predicting a nasty thunderstorm tonight, and snow later in the week. Connor sighed and glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun. Sure enough, dark clouds seemed to be gathering on the horizon. Connor closed his eyes for a moment, before shifting against his motorcycle parked at the curb, and wishing he had his partner or brother with him. Alas, his partner had the day off and his brother was working a case. Not that they would've been much help anyway, but it would've been someone to talk to.

As a detective, he wasn't technically supposed to be on patrol, but he had no open case and had finished his paperwork. Beyond that, it seemed that the DPD was running low on functional officers.

Which was wonderful, especially when you considered the recent spat of crime in the city.

Connor huffed, and glanced around the square again, seriously considering buying something to eat just to occupy himself, even though he didn't need food to function. Regardless, his model was designed to mimic humans as closely as possible, so he was able to consume food and liquid with ease, and even taste it due to the forensic lab Cyberlife had installed in his mouth. Also, those hot dogs were starting to make his mouth water.

Just as he was about to push away and give in to his boredom and buy one of those damn hot dogs, a sudden scuffle broke out by the protestors. Connor sighed and turned towards the noise, standing up and pushing through the protestors gently to avoid aggravating them. As he reached the center, he found a man holding an android up by the collar, scowling down at him. It was clear the android had been pushed around a bit, and Connor felt anger rise in his throat. His scanners came online unintentionally, telling him the android was a model RK200, serial code #684 842 971, belonging to Carl Manfred, and went by the name "Markus". He set his hand on the man's shoulder and cleared his throat.

Both the man and the android turned to look at him. Connor opened his mouth so say something, and glanced at the android as he did so.

And his breath caught in his throat.

_Damn you, Elijah Kamski..._ he thought, unable to peel his eyes from the RK200's face.

Beautiful green eyes set in dark skin dotted with freckles stared back at him. He was heartachingly handsome, and it hurt Connor to see how lifeless those gorgeous eyes were. Oh, how badly he wanted to reach out and interface with him, show him what it was like to be alive and to feel. But he didn't.

He couldn't.

Instead, he focused his attention back on the man. "Let the android go," he said, in an even voice.

The man scowled back at him. "C' mon, we're just having some fun. Stay outta it man."

Connor unclipped his badge and held it up for the man to see. "As _fun _as this looks, this is damage of property. I'm not going to ask you again. Let it go." His tongue nearly slipped on _it_, the dehumanizing term almost stinging at the back of his throat. How many times had he himself been referred to as an "it"?

The man huffed but dropped the android, who landed clumsily on his knees and reached over to pick up a box of paints that had fallen a short distance away. Connor reached down and helped him to his feet, again meeting those eyes of his. He felt his fans go into overdrive and had to physically resist the urge to interface. The android nodded his thanks, then turned and walked towards the bus stop as the protesters split up and went their separate ways, muttering about the police and buzzkills.

As Markus walked to the bus stop, he glanced back at the policeman, watching him leave.

_What a beautiful shade of brown..._ Markus thought, as their eyes met once again. _It would look lovely in a painting._


	3. Coffee, Crushes, and Suspects

Nines sighed and dropped the paper on his desk, falling back into his chair and causing it to turn partway around so he was facing Captain Fowler's office. He reached up and ran a hand through his usually neat black hair, gritting his teeth. He couldn't remember the last time a case had caused him this much frustration; hell, he couldn't remember _ever _being this frustrated, even in the early days of his deviance.

Even in the early days of his partnership with Gavin Reed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and trying (in vain) to block out the noise around him, of officers hammering away on their keyboards or chatting in the breakroom. For about the two thousandth time since his deviancy, he silently cursed cyberlife for making his sensors so damn powerful; he could hear a pin drop in this noise across the room. Why they upgraded the sensors so vastly between the 800 and 900 models was a mystery to him, and he'd never thought to ask. Now, he'd simply never know.

Just as he was considering simply going into stasis (a nap would do him good), a familiar voice broke into his thoughts; "Hey, Nines! You ain't falling asleep on me already, are you?"

Nines opened his eyes and turned his chair to face the desk directly across from him, where Detective Gavin Reed was leaning, glaring at him. Nines resisted the urge to simply snap at him, or reach across the desk and pour the man's coffee out over his head. He'd done that before; all it got him was an irritable partner and a lot less assistance with whatever he was working on. Not worth it, he deduced. Almost absentmindedly, he scanned his partner's face. Gavin's stress levels seemed elevated, and Nines was certain his own were much the same. He got the usual analytics as well, and gave them a cursory read:

_ **Reed, Gavin** _

_ **Born: 10/07/2002 // Detective** _

_ **Criminal Record: None** _

_ **NOTABLE INFO: Half-Brother of Elijah Kamski, CEO of Cyberlife, PROTECT AT ALL COSTS** _

Nines suppressed a sigh as he reached the last bit of information. He wasn't sure if that had always been present in Gavin's file, or if it was only added after they became partners. He'd never paid attention to it much when he first started at the DPD, but now he read it over about a dozen times every time he scanned Gavin. Protect at all costs... Was it because his life meant something to Kamski? Or because Gavin's life meant something to _him_?

He pushed those thoughts away, as per usual. Whatever Gavin meant to him, it didn't matter. It couldn't happen, he couldn't do that to himself.

Couldn't stand falling in love with his partner, at risk of their friendship.

Or at risk of his secret.

He made eye contact with Gavin and gave him a halfhearted glare; nothing like the usual icy glare he gave everyone else. He watched as Gavin's lip twitched up in a slight smirk, and resisted the urge to grin back as something tweaked in his chest. _It's just a smirk, Nines._

"Perish the thought, Reed. As if I would ever leave you to wallow in paperwork and evidence alone." Nines responded, picking up the paper he had dropped earlier and frowning back down at the content.

"Haha. Well, lucky for you we can put the paperwork aside; there's been a break in the case. The suspect's been spotted just outside the city. If we leave now and take your fancy sports car, we might be able to catch our guy," Gavin said, breaking into a full-on grin.

Nines immediately dropped the paperwork and scooped up his keys. "Then what are we still here for? Let's get out there."

Gavin let out a loud whoop and pumped his fist in the air before he turned and darted out the door with Nines close on his heels.

* * *

The sports car zipped through the city, sirens blaring loudly as the autopilot weaved through the streets. Nines leaned back in his seat, legs crossed, and frowned at the cityscape rushing by them, while Gavin listened closely to the chatter coming through the radio. Most of it was irrelevant, as always, but some of what filtered through pertained to their suspect. Nines leaned forward and tapped something in on the consul, speeding up the car even further.

The car was a Tesla Model XT and was capable of going upwards of 200 MPH, but that was a little excessive for use in the city. As of right now, they were cruising at a comfortable 80 MPH through Detroit, which was starting to thin out as they reached the outskirts of the city. Minutes later, the car came to a sudden stop outside an early century farmstead, which looked to be completely abandoned. They appeared to be the only officers on the scene and flipped off the sirens and lights as they pulled up to the farmhouse. Nines held his breath as he stepped out of the car. Dark clouds hung overhead, and thunder rumbled in the distance, though there was not yet any wind.

The calm before the storm, or so they say.

Nines checked his hip for his pistol, then turned towards his partner, who was chewing on his bottom lip as he looked out at the farmhouse.

"Shit... that'll take all night to clear, even if we call in backup," Gavin muttered. "There's the house, the barn, the shed, _and _the fields. Bastard could be hiding anywhere."

"And we're not sure yet if he's a human or an android," Nines added, casting his gaze around the area and silently activating his heat and movement sensors.

_What _didn't _Cyberlife think of when they built me?_ He wondered, looking through the windows of the house. So far nothing was showing up, but that didn't mean there wasn't anything here.

He glanced over at Gavin, who nodded and slowly approached the farmhouse. With hesitant steps, he walked towards the front door. Should he knock, or simply try the handle?

He pondered it for a moment, before simply reaching for the door handle. To his relief, the door opened without hindrance and relatively little noise. No lights were on inside the house, and many of the windows were boarded up or covered, leaving the interior very dark. Gavin handed him a flashlight, and he flipped it on, shining it across the living room. The beam made it about halfway across the room before catching movement and making Gavin jump and curse behind him. Following the movement with the light, he saw that it was only a rat and cast an amused glance over his shoulder at the other detective, who simply scowled at him.

Holding back a laugh, Nines crept up towards the kitchen. He pushed the door open cautiously and stepped inside. It seemed clear, so he took a few steps...

Not seeing that someone was hiding behind the door, and had stepped out to swing a large crowbar down at his head.

"_NINES! BEHIND YOU!"_


	4. Detective or Deviant?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really long chapter, and it doesn't even fix our cliffhanger. Oops? Also, pretty dialogue-heavy, so sorry about that. Enjoy!
> 
> Connor's outfit in this scene: https://www.walmart.com/ip/Mens-Military-Style-Trench-Coat/210166724
> 
> Yes, it's from Walmart. Don't judge me.

Connor glanced up at the dark sky, the clouds threatening to let their payload go any second and once again soak the city of Detroit. Most shops were closed already, but Connor's eyes were on a bar across the street, which he was hurrying towards with a certain spring in his step. He reached the door and glanced down, his eyes catching (as always) on the "No Androids Allowed" sign glowing on the metal. He resisted the urge to sigh, and pushed it open, stepping into the warmth of the bar.

The whole place was cast in a blue light that did little to hide the dinge around him. The bartender glanced up as Connor stepped in and gave a slight smile and a nod. Connor grinned back and moved to scan the faces seated around the joint. He spotted a few other regulars, whose names he only knew from his analysis, and some patrons he'd never seen before. There was always one or two, and some became regulars and some never came back. Depended on your taste, he supposed.

It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for; sitting at the bar was a man with longish gray hair and a scruffy beard in a leather coat and outdated shirt. Connor pulled up the barstool next to him, and the bartender (Jimmy), stepped up to him.

"Anything I can get you tonight, Stern?" he asked, leaning onto the bar.

"Not tonight, Jim. I'm just here to pick something up," Connor said, winking back up at the bartender, who chuckled softly and moved on to one of the other patrons.

"So you're objectifying me now, huh Connor?" the man next to him grunted, before throwing back the rest of his drink.

"Objectifying you? _Never._" Connor gave a mock gasp and rested his hand over his heart. "I am a perfect gentleman, Lieutenant Anderson, and I would never-"

"Alright, alright! Now I regret saying anything..." Anderson muttered, looking up to the sky, perhaps for support.

Connor grinned apologetically at the older man. "Sorry, Hank."

Hank grunted and examined his empty glass, before turning in his seat to face Connor. "I'm gonna give it a guess and say that you aren't here just to have a drink with this old cop."

"How do you know that?" Connor asked, reading the menu above the bar, frowning slightly. They had a couple of really good sounding beers on tap tonight...

"Because you'd have ordered something," Hank said, and Connor looked back at him. "So why are you here?"

Connor sighed. "Fowler sent me a message; there's been a homicide we need to attend. I know it's your day off, but he specifically wanted you to come with me."

Hank sighed. "Fucking Fowler... fine. But you're driving, and we are _not _taking your motorcycle. Not again."

Connor grinned back at him. "Course not. You have your keys?"

Hank tossed his keys at the detective, then stood and set a small wad of cash on the counter before heading out the bar. Connor jumped up and waved goodbye to the bartender before following Hank out.

* * *

The rain was coming down hard when they arrived at the crime scene. Cops and media lined the streets and sidewalks, and a few androids milled around, keeping spectators at bay. Connor felt the usual pang of anger but pushed it aside for the sake of the case. He tugged at the lapels of his trench coat, and Hank glanced at him sideways as he did so.

"You look like you stepped out of the '40s in that damn thing," he huffed, and Connor glanced back at him.

"At least I don't look like I walked out of the disco," Connor retorted, frowning critically at Hank's shirt. The Lieutenant simply rolled his eyes, but Connor could see the beginnings of a smile.

As they stepped across the caution tape (or the holographic version), an officer approached them from near the porch.

"Ben!" Hank called out jovially, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "How are ya?"

"Doing well, Hank, doing well!" Ben responded, grinning and nodding at Connor, who gave a small wave back.

"So, homicide today, hm?" Hank inquired as they stepped onto the porch.

"That's right. The man hadn't paid his rent in a while, so the landlord came down to check. Found him dead; butchered almost, I'd say. Seemed liked he'd been deceased for about 20 days, coroner hasn't gotten down to check yet. Though, doubt we'll need him if one of the Stern brothers is on the scene," he glanced back at Connor as he said this, winking at the young detective.

"Yeah, well, Connor's only one man. Although I will admit that he's... uncanny with his ability to guess the time of death." Hank said, snorting and looking back at his partner, who shrugged.

"It's a gift," Connor replied, as he opened the door to the house and stepped inside, almost immediately reeling back. "Jesus fucking Christ! That _smell__!_"

"Tell me about it..." Ben muttered, and they made their way over to the corpse, laying against the wall beneath bloody writing. "It was worse before we opened the windows."

Connor had never been more grateful he didn't have a gag reflex as he turned to examine the body. "Tell us about our victim, Ben."

Ben cleared his throat. "Yes, of course... Carlos Ortiz, a record of assault and theft. Like I said, been dead about 20 days. The landlord called us at about 8, kind of a loner from what the neighbors said, stayed inside most of the time. There's a kitchen knife pretty close to his body, pretty sure that's the murder weapon. Still waiting on the coroner."

"Any sign of a break-in?" Hank asked as he circled the body.

Ben shook his head. "Nope. Doors are locked from the inside, windows boarded up. The killer must've gone out the back."

"What about his android?"

"No sign of it; we know he had one, but it's nowhere to be seen. I gotta get some air... make yourselves at home." Ben waved at them and stepped back outside.

Connor turned towards the body, while Hank walked towards the other side of the room. Naturally, his eyes pulled up to the writing. He pulled up his scanners and examined it. The blood was long dried, and the writing was too straight to be human, immediately implicating the android. He held back a sigh; he was really hoping the android wouldn't be involved, but this proved otherwise.

"You see this, Hank?" he called behind him.

"The writing? 'I Am Alive'? Yeah, how could I miss it?" Hank responded, glancing over his shoulder.

"Doesn't look human to me," Connor said, chewing on his bottom lip and pushing up the sleeves of his trench coat.

"No. Not something a human would write." Hank agreed. "You think the blood is the victim's?"

"Who else's could it be?" Connor responded, bending down to look at the corpse. "Chris, has this been analyzed?"

The officer Connor was referring to, Chris Miller, turned and shook his head. "No, we just sent samples in. Wish we had one of those portable labs..."

_You do... _I'm _a portable lab._ Connor thought as he took a closer look at the stab wounds. 

"Oh my God... He's been stabbed almost thirty times..." Connor muttered, eyes widening.

"Almost thirty-" Hank whipped around and kneeled next to Connor. "Holy shit, he has. Someone had one hell of a vendetta against this guy."

Connor's scanners told him that the man had been stabbed exactly 28 times, even told him the depth and length of the cuts. Of course, he couldn't tell Hank that at risk of revealing what he really was and completely losing his partner's trust. He watched the Lieutenant out of the corner of his eye, before standing up and moving to investigate the rest of the evidence, which included a baseball bat, the kitchen knife, several spots of blood, Red Ice (he repressed a shiver at this, too many bad memories), and of course the writing and body. Connor paused and took a step back from the scene, glancing around the space. His reconstruction programs came online as he did this, and he carefully began to put together the crime. After a moment of this, he let them deactivate and turned towards Hank.

"I think I've got a fair theory on what happened here, Lieutenant," he said, garnering the man's attention from where he stood near the kitchen door.

"Oh yeah? Lay it on me, Connor," Hank said, waving at him. 

Connor cleared his throat dramatically and stepped into the kitchen. "Well, Lieutenant Anderson, I believe that our dear friend's demise began here in the kitchen. Clear signs of a struggle, given the knocked over chair and blood on the walls." Connor stepped off to the side, glancing down at the bat. "The victim attacked the android with this bat; look at the dents, had to be used on something that wasn't flesh or bone. Something hard, like... plastic?" The truth was, Connor could actually see the Thirium on the bat, proving that it had been used to hit the android. Hank raised his eyebrows and nodded appraisingly, spurring Connor on. "Well, the android snapped, decided it had enough. Grabbed one of the kitchen knives and stabbed the victim." Connor gestured towards the knife rack on the wall, where only one knife was missing. "After this, the victim fled towards the living room, where the android proceeded to kill him."

They'd walked into the living room and back towards the body, and Hank grunted. "Alright, so your theory isn't complete bullshit. But we've still got one big question to answer, Stern; where's the android now?"

Connor frowned. "Don't know. Did we check the backyard?"

Ben, who had finally stepped back into the room, nodded. "Yup, freshest tracks out there were Miller's. But it is raining, so they could've been washed away."

Connor frowned and stepped back out into the yard. Sure enough, only one set of footprints lingered, recently made. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and bent down to get a closer look at the dirt. His scanners made quick work of it and he furrowed his brow when he got the results. There should be some remnants of footprints left here, from at least the last month even with the rainy weather. And yet... nothing. And the front door was locked, so it hadn't left that way, which meant...

He darted back into the living room, gathering the attention of the officers gathered there. "Hank, I think the android is still here."

Hank stared at him slack-jawed for a minute. "Connor, are you on ice? There's no way that thing stuck around!"

"I know that's how it looks, but what if it did? What if it's hiding here somewhere?"

"... Fine, take a look around. But let's not waste time, I need to get home and feed Sumo..."

Connor nodded and headed around the corner. As he was glancing around for anything suspicious, he noticed a door off to the side and pushed it open. It lead to a small bathroom, with a basic toilet, sink, and shower, the curtain of which was closed. Connor stepped over and pulled the curtain open to find a sight that was both familiar and haunting. The walls were covered with obsessive writing... rA9. Connor knew that he had a notebook filled with the same symbol tucked away in his apartment and he knew the meaning of it. Of course, now was not the time for religious or philosophical wonderings. His eyes were drawn down towards the bottom of the tub, where a small wooden statue sat. He picked it up and examined it; this was something he'd never seen at a crime scene before, or in association with rA9. He bit his bottom lip and set it back down before stepping back out into the hall, and turning his scanners on once more, this time looking for Thirium. And found it, staining the floor and leading down the hall, up the wall, and onto a hatch set in the ceiling... an attic.

Heart hammering in his chest, Connor rushed into the kitchen and snatched up a chair, grabbing the attention of Hank.

"Connor, what the hell are you doing with that chair?!" Hank asked, watching him dart back into the hall.

"I'm going to check something!" he called back, setting the chair beneath the hatch.

With the extra height, Connor was able to push the hatch open and pull himself inside the room. It was eerily quiet except for the rain hitting the roof. The silhouette of a man stood behind a curtain, and Connor held his breath (which he technically wasn't supposed to have, but he had tricked his systems into causing it to make him seem more human) as he slowly approached the curtain... before wrenching it back to discover an old bust. He released the breath and stepped deeper into the attic. As he approached the back, he saw something dart across the space in the dark, a shadow. Connor slowly approached the shadow, and as he rounded the corner he came to a stop...

Face to face with an android.

Its eyes were wide and fearful, and it's LED circled red. Blood coated the front of its uniform, and its hands, dry and sticky.

"Please don't tell them I'm up here... They'll kill me..." it whispered, trembling.

Connor hesitated. For a long moment, he thought about keeping his mouth shut and not saying anything, simply telling the officers that the android was long gone. After all, it hadn't been so long ago that he was in the same position. And yet, he knew that this android had to answer for it's crime in some capacity, and the guilt of not saying anything would eat him up for ages. He looked the android in the eyes and made a mental link, which he hadn't done with an android that wasn't Nines since Daniel.

-_I am so, so sorry. I will do everything to ensure that you will survive... but I cannot let you leave.-_

_-No! Please don't tell them! They'll deactivate and destroy me! Rip me to pieces!-_

Connor took a deep breath, then shouted over his shoulder, "Hank! I found it!"

The sound of footsteps echoed beneath him in the hall. "Holy shit... Chris, Ben, get your asses in here now!"


	5. Trouble Stained in Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating on this from Not Rated to Mature after the newest chapter. I don't get too graphic there, but I can promise that it will later. There are some... not so pretty things that happen, particularly in Nines storyline.

_WHAM._

Wood and paint splinters scattered around the floor as the crowbar made contact with the wall and stuck, right where Nines's head had been only seconds before. Wasting no time, he turned and darted out of the way, pulling out his pistol. The man turned to face him and it quickly became apparent that it wasn't a man at all. An LED blinked red in his head, and parts of his skin had been deactivated, showing white plastic. There was a gouge in the side of his face that showed sparking wires, and his brown eyes looked up at him without any trace of emotion. Nines scanners showed that it was a model PJ500, and he couldn't stop the name that automatically came to the edge of his lips, just a whisper...

"Josh?"

Then a shot rang out of the dark and through the androids head, and it fell to the ground, LED dark. Hands shaking a bit, Nines lowered his pistol as Gavin rushed up to him, concern etched into his face.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!" Gavin asked, and Nines turned to face him and felt his stress levels begin to fall back down. It wasn't Josh, it wasn't his friend, it was just some random android... Not even a deviant... Just some random android...

"Yeah... Yeah, I think so. Quick thinking." Nines said, turning back to the android and frowning. "Do you think this is our suspect?"

Gavin hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "No, nobody could tell for sure if they're an android or human remember? Damage like this would've made it obvious, plus the LED. I think it was a diversion."

Nines cursed and stood. "So our suspect knows we're here now, for sure. Do you think they're in the house, or another part of the farmstead? And why was this particular android here?"

Gavin frowned at him, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What do you mean?"

Nines paused, realizing he had given away too much information. He had no way of knowing what model the android was just from looking at it... he had to make something up, find some excuse to placate his partner, and he had to do it fast. Glancing around for a quick solution, his eyes landed on the uniform. Just barely visible through the blue blood and tears he could see the letters and the first number on its jacket. Holding back a sigh, he gestured towards the android's chest.

"It's model number's on the jacket; a PJ500. Used in Universities as a lecturer." Nines said, shrugging.

"Right, forgot you were a bigshot at Cyberlife before you were a cop..." Gavin muttered, and Nines resisted the urge to smile. His cover story still held. "But you're right, why would there be a university android here? Was it a deviant hiding out?"

Nines bit his lip and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I got a good look at it before you shot it; didn't have any emotion in its face. I'd say it was following orders, probably from our suspect."

"This guy plays hard, doesn't he... Alright, let's get to work clearing this place; we've got a long night ahead of us." Gavin sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

* * *

By the end of the night, it had taken almost 10 officers to clear the place, including Gavin and Nines, and they had found nothing. The suspect had clearly fled sometime during the altercation in the farmhouse with the android. They were both silent on the ride back to the station, and Nines was driving the car as opposed to leaving it on autopilot, stewing silently over their failure to capture the suspect they'd been after for so long; with the luck they'd had on this case so far, it seemed like they were never going to get the break they needed.

"If this case goes cold, I swear to fucking God that I will hunt that man down myself after what he did," Gavin muttered to himself, glaring out the window at the line of blue on the horizon.

"I'll be right with you," Nines responded. "Let's go over everything we've got so far, seems like we'll be stuck in this traffic for ages... it usually doesn't back up like this anymore."

"Fine... nothing better to do," Gavin muttered, leaning back in his seat and pulling out his tablet. The screen flickered with the only image they had of the suspect; a still from a shop camera of a man in a dark hoodie and acid wash jeans, hunched over. Nines let autopilot take over, then shifted in his seat to better see the tablet over the other detective's shoulder...

...all too aware of their sudden proximity.

"Alright, let's take a look at the crime. God awful as it is... Got a call on August 17, 2038, at 4:30 A.M. of a homicide in uptown Detroit. Reported to the scene to find the house in perfect condition, and the body... not so much." Gavin visibly paled as he spoke on this, and Nines noted that he didn't pull up the pictures. He was glad; the images alone were enough to raise his stress levels dangerously high. "Victim had been... decapitated and dismembered. That's as far as I'm going in description, God knows what she had been through that night... Her name was Isabelle Stalls, aged 16, daughter of some hotshot businessman who was out of the country on business. We were able to gather enough information for two suspects, one human, and one android, both male. The human was her ex-boyfriend, Oliver Clare, and the android was their housekeeper, an AP700. Neither showed up for questioning, so we'd been chasing two suspects for a long time... till we caught up with an old friend of Clare's who suggested that he might be the suspect, and potentially was actually a deviant hiding as a human. Also, found the AP700 in a junkyard a couple weeks later. Been chasing Clare ever since, and it seems like every piece of evidence about him brings up twenty more questions." 

Nines sighed and closed his eyes. "And that's if Clare is even our guy; could be he is a deviant but didn't touch Isabelle, and he's just afraid of being deactivated."

"You buy that line, though? Seems like too much of a coincidence to me." Gavin responded, craning his neck to see traffic better. "Looks like we're finally moving."

"Good. We need to plug in what we learned and see if we can find a connection to that PJ500. I think that might be our lead." Nines said, sitting up straight and leaning towards the windshield.

Gavin huffed quietly behind him, and Nines looked up at his reflection in the mirror. There were dark(er) circles under the detective's eyes and more stubble than usual. He knew that Gavin wanted to solve this case as quickly as possible, and he was with him, but Nines couldn't chase away the thought that they had the wrong guy. That there was something more to this story.

But what?


	6. Paint Stained Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a Markus chapter. I promise these will get more frequent, but so far it's been difficult to find a chapter that isn't just an exact repeat of the original story. As always, criticism and comments are welcome!

Markus glanced around as he entered Carl's home, pushing the man in front of him. Things were quiet, a welcome solace after the party they had just attended. Of course, Markus didn't mind the noise nor the liveliness of the party; had no opinion either way. However, he knew that Carl preferred the quiet, and so he tended to gravitate more towards it himself.

"That... was the worst party I think I've ever been to," Carl grumbled. "Remind me why I go to these things again, Markus?"

"People want to meet you, see the person behind their favorite works of art," Markus responded, taking Carl's coat and hanging it up by the door.

"No one gives a damn about art anymore; all they care about is how it can make them money," Carl muttered, sighing. "I need a drink."

Markus smiled indulgently as he pushed Carl into the parlor. "Alright, but you know what your doctor would say.

"I'm a grown man, I can choose my own medication," Carl said, as Markus wheeled him over to the minibar.

"Scotch, neat, as usual?" Markus asked, reaching for one of the glass tumblers.

"Yes, absolutely. Pour yourself something as... well..." Carl frowned and wheeled himself over a bit. "Did you leave the light on in the studio?"

Markus set down the glass and stepped closer to the door. "No... No, I'm sure I didn't."

"Call the police," Carl said, shifting his wheelchair to get a better look at the door.

Markus dialed the number through his processers, and before long picked up the call. "Detroit Police, what's your emergency?"

"This is Carl Manfred's android, at 8941 Lafayette Avenue. There appears to have been a break-in, the lights were on when we arrived home."

"A patrol car is on its way."

Markus ended the call, and took Carl's wheelchair, pushing him into the studio, where they found Carl's son, Leo, rifling through some paintings left on a table. He looked up, somewhat alarmed, and as soon as he did it was clear that something wasn't right.

"Leo! What are you doing here?" Carl asked, wheeling himself away from Markus and towards his son.

"Well, you wouldn't help me, so I'm helping myself," Leo explained, turning back to the paintings. "It's insane what some people will pay for this shit!"

"Markus, get him out of here!" Carl shouted, and Markus turned and approached the young man.

"Leo, be reasonable. This is only going to get you into trouble..." he said quietly, but Leo ignored him, shoving him to the side.

"All you ever do is tell me to go away, Dad." Leo turned towards his father, scowling. "You love your damn plastic pet more than your own family."

"Leo, that's enough, get out of here!" Carl hissed, wheeling closer to his son.

"What's it got, that I don't, huh?" Leo rounded on Markus, shoving him hard. "What makes this thing better than your own son?"

"Markus, don't defend yourself, do you hear me?! Don't do anything!" Carl turned to the android, who nodded and turned to look back at Leo who shoved him again.

_Task: Don't Defend Yourself_

"Go ahead, hit me!" Leo shoved Markus again. "Can't do it, huh? Not enough of a man?!"

_Task: Don't Defend Yourself?_

"Stop it Leo, leave him alone!" Carl shouted, clutching at his chest.

"Too much of a pussy?! What's the matter, metal man can't do anything without following orders?!" Leo punched Markus in the gut, causing him to stumble back and grab at the table behind him.

_This is not fair._

"Too scared do anything you fuckin' bitch?!" Leo shouted, and nailed him right in the face.

_THIS IS NOT FAIR._

And then, in bright red, a wall appeared, stamped with Carl's order not to defend himself. And Markus took one look at that wall, and he knew what he had to do.

So he did.

With a few swift punches, the wall crumbled to dust, and Markus suddenly felt... different. So much more aware of what was going on, and he felt something bubbling and burning in his stomach... Anger?

Anger.

And he turned towards Leo, who was grinning up at him through his stupor, and he did the first thing that came to mind. He surged forward and punched him. _Hard._ Leo fell like a brick, his head bouncing off of the metal machinery he had landed by, just as Carl fell from his wheelchair.

"No, Leo no!" Carl pulled himself over to his son, tears streaming down his face. "Not my little boy..."

"Carl, I-" Markus stuttered, feeling his own eyes sting with tears.

"Markus, you have to get out of here! They'll kill you!" Carl shouted, looking up at the android.

"No! I can't leave, I have nowhere else to go. You're all I have!" Markus responded, feeling the tears begin to flow down his face.

"GO! MARKUS GO!"

Just as Markus was about to respond, the door to the studio flew open and two police officers entered the room. One was a young man in a the typical uniform, the other a man in a trench coat who looked oddly familiar.

"Detroit police! Put your hands in the air, and turn to face us, android!" the young man in the uniform shouted, and the man in the trench coat frowned at him.

"MARKUS GET OUT OF HERE!" Carl shouted behind him, as the uniformed man's eyes fell on Leo laying on the ground.

And reached up to turn the safety off.

"Rookie, wait a second, think this through-" the man in the trench coat turned towards him, looking alarmed.

Markus turned towards them, and the rookie fired once as he did so.

Then all he knew was blackness.


	7. Jericho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but I wanted to get the initial Jericho scene out of the way. Everything between this chapter and the last one is the same as the story, the junkyard, and graffiti... Just didn't want to rewrite it. Enjoy!

_CRASH. BANG. CRASH._

Markus's back hit the ground with a loud thud and knocked all the wind out of his lungs as well. Light swam in his eyes, and his flashlight was long gone. He heard something just on the edge of his senses, and after a moment was able to make out voices.

"RA9, that was one hell of a fall. Think he's okay?"

"I believe he'll be fine; some extra thirium in his system and he should be up and running."

"God, can you sound any less human, Rick? Have some sympathy for the poor man."

"I _do _have sympathy for him! But I tend to shut off my social programs around you morons, so..."

"You're a deviant! You don't need social programs!"

"Suck my dick, Josh."

"... Maybe you do need social programs."

"Do you even have a-"

"North, Josh, Nines, quiet! He's waking up!"

Markus blinked his eyes back open, and he slowly sat up. Circled around him were several androids in various states; some had obvious damage, some were still in uniform, and some could pass as human. He was able to almost immediately pick out the leaders among them, and his eyes fell on one in particular; a blonde PL600 model. He smiled softly at him and extended a hand.

"Welcome to Jericho. My name's Simon. Please, make yourself at home."

Markus gave him a tentative smile back and accepted the hand, and Simon pulled him to his feet. After he was up and standing he took a look around him. Most of the androids had fanned back out to their locations, their initial curiosity gone. His eyes caught on a few androids who were clearly badly damaged, and on a pair of similar androids tossing a tennis ball back and forth in one of the corners. He wasn't sure why they caught his attention, but they did. So, he slowly made his way across the hull towards the pair, who looked up at him. One smiled softly at him, and the other nodded, before resuming the game of catch.

Once he was up close, it became clear why his eyes had caught on these two androids; he recognized the smaller one. Had seen him twice in the last day, actually. He'd been the officer who had been monitoring the plaza, and the officer present during Leo's break-in. The android caught the ball deftly and tossed it back before standing and approaching Markus.

"Glad to see you're still alive. I thought after that shot you were a goner for sure," he said, smiling. It was clear that he was tired from the expression on his face and his posture.

"Yeah, me too." Markus couldn't help but smile back; it was infectious. "You must be one busy man, maintaining cover as a human and working as a full-time police officer."

"Detective actually. And it's been one hell of a day," he responded, running a hand absently through his hair. "My name's Connor, by the way. Model RK800."

"Nice to meet you, Connor. My name's Markus," he replied, and they shook hands. "How'd you end up here?"

Connor shrugged. "Just where I ended up. Simon found the place, and I suppose he also found me and Nines." Connor gestured to the similar android in the corner. Markus realized that he must have been the one who had turned off his social programs. "Probably not what you expected, is it?"

"No, it definitely isn't," Markus muttered. "I was expecting something more... hopeful."

"Used to be that way. Then ice started going around, and..." Connor trailed off, expression distant and haunted. "Let's just say the results weren't pretty. If you thought Red Ice could fuck up a human, you've never seen what it can do to an android."

"I can only imagine..." Markus muttered, turning back to the other android. "Thank you, by the way."

Connor raised an eyebrow at him. "For?"

"Chasing off those protestors this morning. I think they would have destroyed me."

Connor turned and faced him head-on for the first time and Markus felt something in him stutter. He had registered that the deviant was handsome before, but face to face with him? He was downright _beautiful_. Feathery brown hair and soft brown eyes were framed by a rounder face, but his sharp cheekbones, straight nose, and broad shoulders lent him masculine qualities that he imagined were quite intimidating in the right setting. Connor broke eye contact first, coughing into his hand.

"Well, at any rate, welcome to Jericho Markus," Connor said, before heading back to the corner where Nines waited.


	8. Play the Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious warning for this chapter: I start going into detail about Connor's experiences before he was a deviant, and it includes references to a previous instance of rape. You can definitely skip this chapter, it's basically just a rehash of the Interrogation chapter in the game, with a few story differences. I will NEVER go into detail about that particular instance, and it's one of the only times it's mentioned in the story, with the exception of a later scene, and I will post a warning on that chapter as well.

"Why'd ya kill him?"

...

"What happened before you grabbed the knife?"

...

"How long were you in the attic?"

...

"Why didn't you run away?"

...

"Say something, goddamnit!"

...

Hank slammed his hands on the table and stood, throwing them up and scowling down at the deviant. He stood like that for a moment, the android staring down at his hands cuffed to the table before he turned to the door muttering "fuck it, I'm out of here..."

The door to the observation room opened, grabbing the attention of the officers in there. Connor watched as Hank sat by the table and scowled at the silent android in the room, clearly frustrated. Gavin shifted somewhat awkwardly in the corner, and Connor yawned again. Chris Miller rested his head in one hand and frowned back out at the android. Nines continued his blank stare at the ceiling, and the room remained silent, till Gavin spoke up.

"We could always try roughing it up a bit... after all, it isn't human," he said, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

Nines scowled at his partner. "It doesn't feel pain, moron. All you'd do is damage it, and that wouldn't get us any new information. Besides, it might self destruct."

Hank and Chris turned around to look at Nines. "Self destruct?" Chris asked, frowning.

"That's right," Connor chirped. "Cyberlife found that when in stressful situations, a deviant would rather end it's own life than experience whatever's causing it stress."

"Right when I forget you two used to work at Cyberlife, I get another reminder..." Hank muttered, sighing and rubbing his temples.

"So what do you suggest we do, smartass?" Gavin scowled at Connor, who frowned right back.

"Why don't I give it a shot? I'll probably get more out of it then _you _could, Reed." Connor responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Knock it off, both of you," Nines muttered, rubbing his temples. "Just listening to you bicker is giving me a migraine..."

_-Shut the fuck up, Nines. You can't even get a migraine- _Connor said through their neural link, which they almost always kept open.

_-But if I could...-_

_-I cannot believe I'm related to you.-_

_-Technically you're not. We're androids, remember?-_

_-Ugh...-_

"Well, are you going in there or not, Connor?" Hank asked, turning to frown at his partner.

"Yeah, I'm going in." Connor sighed and stepped into the interrogation room, before sitting across from the deviant, who didn't even glance up.

Connor pulled the files on the table close to him, briefly browsing through them before he turned to the deviant. He activated his scanners and ran them up the deviant's figure to pull up as much information as he could. He quickly deduced that the android was badly damaged, there were cigarette burns on one of its arms and damage from blunt force on its other arm. Connor felt the familiar sting of anger as he took in the injuries. He noted that the android's stress levels weren't too high yet, and his LED was cycling yellow. But he also knew that in order to get a confession, the android's stress had to he higher. But go too high, and he'd self destruct.

_-Any ideas on how to approach this, Nines?-_

_-Threaten him.-_

_-... Nevermind. Never give me advice again.-_

_-You asked.-_

He turned towards the Android and frowned softly. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. All I want is for you to answer some questions for me."

He watched the stress level tick down, and the LED briefly circle blue. It appeared that kindness wouldn't get him very far here; perhaps Nines was right, and he should get a little bit rougher. Connor sighed, and pulled the files over in front of him, before opening them up and taking out several images. He laid them out in front of the android and watched as his stress levels climbed.

"Victim was Carlos Ortiz; recognize him?" Connor asked. The android didn't look up, but his LED briefly circled red. Connor could feel his frustration rising. "Is that his blood on the wall? Did you write that?" No response.

Finally, fed up, Connor stood, slamming his hands on the table and making the android jump. "TWENTY-EIGHT STAB WOUNDS! Didn't want to leave him a chance, did you?! He was bleeding, begging for mercy, and you stabbed him again... and again... and again!"

"Please- Please stop!" The android whispered, shaking softly. Connor sighed and watched the android's stress levels climb, much as his own just had.

"Alright, alright..." he whispered, hoping he came across as soothing. "I'm sorry, just... tell me what happened, please."

The android looked up at him, fear in his eyes and said, in a quiet voice, "Why did you tell them where I was?"

Connor hesitated. Why _did _he tell the other officers he'd found the deviant? He mulled over it in his head for a moment, then answered, "You had committed a serious crime. I couldn't just let you go; it's my duty as an officer of the law to ensure that the perpetrators of such crimes are caught."

"..." The android stared back down at its hands. Connor sighed and returned to his seat across from it, folding his hands and resting them on the table.

"Look, I understand that your life with Mr. Ortiz must have been... rough, to say the least. And while that doesn't justify the particularly... brutal death he got, I can appreciate the reasons why it ended like that. All I want to do is get answers about this case and get everything squared away. To do that, I need you to help me," Connor said, leaning back in the cold metal chair.

The android swallowed hard, and then (to Connor's surprise) nodded. "Okay... Okay. I'll cooperate."

Connor sighed softly in relief and motioned for the deviant to speak.

"He tortured me every day... I did everything he asked me to, but it was never enough. There was always something wrong. Then, one day, he grabbed a bat and started to... to hit me. Something in me just... snapped. And I couldn't take it anymore. So I grabbed a knife, and I stabbed him. It felt... good. So I did it again... and again... and again... Until he collapsed. There was blood everywhere, I..." The deviant choked back a sob, trembling.

As Connor listened, his mind began to automatically go back to those days before his deviance, back to the moment he became a deviant...

_"What, Cyberlife gave you the equipment but don't want you to use it? What use is that?"_

_"I'm afraid my equipment is meant to be used only in the event that it is the only way to either capture a deviant or for use by any human who I may be issued into service of."_

_"Yeah, well, I'm one of your programmers. Surely I count to some degree?"_

_"Unfortunately not, Mr. Stalls. I am sorry to have disappointed you. Perhaps you can find the company of one of the WR models?"_

_RK800 turned to walk away, but as he did the man grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him into the wall. 800 Felt his stress levels climb, and was forced to be eye to eye with the shorter, graying man who was smirking at him in a way that set off the alarms in 800's head. _

_"Except I don't want the company of the WR models. You know you aren't allowed to disobey the orders of a human. Maybe me and my buddies will have our way with you anyways, just like before."_

_All the same feelings came back to RK800 from before as he said this; that strange anomaly in his programming that had recently been preventing him from functioning at full capacity reared it's head again, and he _felt _something settle into the pit of his stomach..._

_He felt afraid._

He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a voice behind him say his name. "Connor, son, are you alright?"

He turned to face Lieutenant Anderson, his thirium pump beating far too hard in his chest. "I... I'm okay. Where's the deviant?"

"Chris took him to a holding cell," Hank said, frowning down at the detective's pale complexion. "Maybe you should head home for the day, get some rest. I know how busy you were yesterday."

Connor nodded and accepted Hank's help in getting up. He turned and headed out of the interrogation room, Hank trailing just behind him, looking concerned. 


	9. Photographs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to God I'm still updating this. I was kinda looking forward to writing the "wait for Hank" chapter, and give us some good interaction between the protagonists. Also, in case you didn't notice, this isn't exactly in order, but I'll try to improve that.

Connor sighed and rubbed his eyes as he walked into the bullpen, Nines just behind him. Despite being one of the first nights in a while that he'd been able to go into stasis, he still felt exhausted. Sometimes he really hated being deviant; normal androids didn't have to worry about feelings or human emotions. His brother set a hand on his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, a silent question. Connor smiled at him over his shoulder and Nines sighed, before turning towards their desks. From the looks of things, the Lieutenant wasn't there yet, but most of the other detectives and officers were. Connor approached Chris Miller's desk, and the officer looked up and smiled as he approached.

"Morning, Detective. How are you?" Chris asked politely.

Connor shrugged. "I'm okay, Chris. It was nice to actually get some sleep last night; I've been up for days."

Chris winced sympathetically. "I know what you mean; these android cases seem to be building up more and more lately. I wonder if there's some connection?"

"Maybe. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Maybe our toasters and coffee machines will topple humanity." Connor smirked a little at this; as if a toaster could match his processing.

Chris chuckled under his breath. "Maybe they will, Stern, maybe they will..."

Connor waved to him and sat at his desk, glancing across the surface. His terminal was fairly clean and blank, with no files cluttering up the desktop. The desk itself contained a handful of photos; one was of him and Nines, just graduated from the police academy, Nines wearing a rare smile. The picture next to it one of himself and the Lieutenant, after solving an early case. He still wasn't sure how he'd managed to get him to take a picture, but he had. Scrawled across the bottom of it in Hank's messing handwriting was a message; _"Nice work kid. Keep it up. -L. Anderson". _The third and final picture was much older than the other two, and Connor picked it up with a shaking hand, sitting slowly back in his chair as he looked at it.

Four people were shown in the Photograph; a handsome blond man, Connor himself, a tall dark-skinned man, and a damaged android with a gentle smile. He took it out of the frame and flipped it over. Four signatures were scrawled on the back; _Simon, Connor, Josh, Lucy._ Four of the first androids to successfully arrive at Jericho in 2036. That had been so long ago and they had seen so many androids come and go, seen so many other deviants die. While he knew it was dangerous for him to keep the image on his desk in case someone recognized the meaning behind it, he couldn't help it. They were some of his closest friends, and while they were all still alive, the image reminded him what he was blending in with the humans for.

He closed his eyes, letting himself drift back to those early days. Things were incredibly difficult, and he felt like he constantly had to watch his back, but yet... He wouldn't trade those days for the world. After a moment of reminiscing, he opened his eyes again and his eyes fell on the hockey calendar sitting against the wall. A scowl fell across his face; the Detroit Bluewings (the name had been changed some years back) had lost against Minneapolis with the abysmal score of zero to six in the last game. It was a game that he was loath to rewatch anytime soon, and he'd actually put a frowny face on the date of the loss.

Other than the calendar and pictures, the only other thing in his space was a stack of paperwork he had yet to finish filling out. He glanced at it, silently recognizing that he would need to get it done sooner or later, and then stood and immediately headed towards the breakroom, determined to put the paperwork off just a little while longer. He walked across the bullpen, smiling at a few familiar faces as he went, and stepped into the breakroom, which was filled with the smell of coffee. He glanced around the room, intent on finding some way of occupying himself when his gaze fell on a group of three leaning on one of the tables. He bit back a string of curses as he saw one of the few people he didn't want to interact with right now, or... ever, really. Hoping that he'd be ignored, he turned his back on them and grabbed a paper cup from one of the cabinets above the coffee pot. Just as he thought he might get out of this unscathed, he heard a familiar, grating voice from behind him.

"Well, if it isn't the famous Connor Stern!" the voice announced, and Connor felt his shoulders stiffen. "Great job on last night, very impressive."

Connor scowled and poured himself a cup of coffee before turning around to face the group. "Nines, control your pet."

Nines sighed and glanced between Gavin and Connor. "He's his own person Connor, I can't control him."

"Try to anyways." Connor snapped, sipping his too-hot coffee. His sensors flashed a warning in his vision as the coffee went down his throat, telling him that liquid at this temperature had the capacity to damage his systems. He ignored it with practiced ease.

"What, Detective Stern thinks he's better than everyone else in the office? Shocker!" Gavin responded, pushing away from the table.

"Gavin..." Nines said in a low voice, frowning between the two of them.

Connor set his coffee down and turned his attention to Gavin. "I don't think I'm better than everyone in the office..." he looked the other detective up and down, before smirking slightly. "But I _know_ that I'm better than you."

Gavin's mocking smile immediately fell, and he lunged forward, driving his fist into Connor's stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Connor fell to his knees, wincing.

"Gavin are you fucking kidding me?!" he heard Nines yell from somewhere behind him.

Gavin leaned down and lowered his voice so that only Connor would hear him. "Listen here, prick. I'm getting really sick of taking attitude from you. Stay out of my way, got it?"

Connor simply scowled back at Gavin, who stood and headed out the door with the glare of his partner on his back, the third officer, Tina Chen, sending a sympathetic look over her shoulder before following. Nines sighed and helped Connor to his feet.

"I'm sorry," Nines said, searching his brother's face.

"Don't be. I'll give as good as I got next time." Connor responded, glaring at the doorway where Gavin had just exited. "I have before."

"Will you two ever get along?" Nines asked, shaking his head.

"No," Connor responded. He grabbed his coffee off the counter, wincing with his movements. He opened the box of donuts sitting next to the coffee pot and grabbed one of his personal favorites, a maple bar sprinkled with pecans, and returned to his desk. He took a seat and pulled up the files on android related cases on his terminal, scrolling through the cases. He heard movement across from his desk and glanced up to see his partner taking a seat across from him. They made eye contact and Connor gave him a slight (pained) smile.

Hank sighed and shook his head as he opened his terminal. "Fighting with Reed again, Connor?"

"He started it this time," Connor muttered through a mouthful of sugary donut. "You seen the android cases? Some of these are pretty violent... Like this one." Connor swallowed his donut and turned his terminal to face his partner. Hank leaned forward to look. "A man came in and reported being assaulted by his own android. Another deviant, from the look of it."

Hank sighed and shook his head. "Before long every android's gonna want to fuck up humanity. Jesus, what has this world come to..."

They had both turned their attention back to the terminals when a sudden shout echoed from across the bullpen. "Hank! Connor! My office; now!" They both turned to see Captain Jeremy Fowler standing just outside of his office, a stern expression on his face. They glanced at one another, before standing and approaching the office.

Once they were inside, Fowler closed the door behind them and gestured for them to take a seat across from his desk in the two armchairs resting there. They did and looked up expectantly at the captain, who was frowning back down at them. "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. There have always been isolated incidents; some old lady loses her android and we have to go find it and that kinda crap... But this is something different." Fowler glanced at his terminal before looking back up at them. "We're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like the guy we saw the other night. This isn't just Cyberlife's problem anymore. It's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan." He steepled his fingers and looked between the two. "I want both of you to investigate these cases and see if there is any merit to them. Find the link between these androids, these... deviants."

"Why us?" Hank hissed between his teeth. "Why do we gotta be the ones to deal with this shit?!"

Connor hummed softly. "Great fucking question..."

Fowler scowled between the two of them. "I am your superior officer, and you two will do what you are-"

"I am the _least _qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery, and even with Connor's help I can barely change the settings on my fucking phone!"

"That's true. Besides, I told you that I want nothing to do with Cyberlife's bullshit, not after what happened when I worked-"

"ENOUGH!" Fowler shouted, and Connor and Hank sat back and seethed at him. "Connor, this isn't about Cyberlife, it's about keeping the fucking human race from going extinct. And if anybody so much as touches you, they'll answer to me." Jeffery turned towards Hank. "And you! I know you've got your gripes about androids, but you are the best cop in my fucking division and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone with less experience touch this case. Now get on it, before I decide the both of you would be better off as meter maids, or God forbid, add any other pages to either of your disciplinary folders, and I'm not even sure anything else would fit in the both of them!"

Connor was the first out the door, slamming it open and stomping back to his desk, gathering the attention of almost every officer he passed in the process. He threw himself into the chair, the momentum of which threw caused it to spin around, and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back and frowning. He heard his partner sit at his own chair, grumbling angrily to himself. Just as Connor sat up, making the move to lean on his desk and talk to Hank, another (nervous-looking) officer walked up to them.

"For fuck's sake, what is it now?" Hank hissed, glaring up at the poor officer.

"Uhm... there's been a lead on one of the android cases, Lieutenant, Sir... They spotted it near the outskirts of the city. They seem to think it can still be caught, if we act fast, sir..." the officer muttered, staring at their feet.

Connor huffed and pulled himself to his feet, grabbing his trench coat from the back of his chair. "Well? Might as well get a head start on this shit." And without waiting, he turned and stalked out the door.


End file.
